


midnight soliloquy

by apocalypticTaco



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Fluff, Humanstuck, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, like so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24513499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalypticTaco/pseuds/apocalypticTaco
Summary: If you had the time, you could wax poetic about every inch of him.Well, it’s past midnight. You could spare a few minutes to wax.If someone asked you what was it specifically about Karkat that you fall head over heels over, you honestly could not tell.It's everything.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 41
Kudos: 167





	midnight soliloquy

It’s like having a cat fall asleep in your lap.

Or, well, your boyfriend to be exact. When you lay out the mental images of them next to each other, there really aren’t that many differences between them.

One notable feature being that you can’t move. Karkat’s clinging to you, leg draped over your waist and hand loosely clutching your shirt. Despite being a heavy sleeper, you’re not going to risk waking him up. You’re comfortable enough, lying down where you are.

You look at him again.

God, he’s  _ gorgeous _ .

Karkat’s hair frames his face like a halo, if it got put into the microwave on popcorn setting. It’s messy, and gravity-defying, and just a little bit tangled from where he missed combing it through with his fingers. 

Despite all expectations, it’s also supremely soft. It’s ironic, really, seeing as he never spends more than an hour a week tending to it and yet it feels just like it’s perfect physical advertisement for a conditioner brand. You remember asking him about it once, not that it was any use; he just grumbled about his hair care routine being none of your business and to fuck off and gargle his shampoo if you were so keen to figure out.

You’ve asked his family, touched their hair, even snuck into Karkat’s bathroom to take a peek at what he uses (2-in-1 old spice shampoo, which is revolting to see yet begrudgingly allowed since it  _ does  _ smell good on him). His entire setup is ridiculously simple- his shampoo, soap, a towel, lotion, and a brush- and yet when you hold him tight his hair is all but silk on your cheek.

You still don’t know what the fuck he does with it. That’s just a secret you’re never going to know. For now.

And that’s just his hair- if you had the time, you could wax poetic about every inch of him.

Well, it’s past midnight. You could spare a few minutes to wax. 

If someone asked you what was it specifically about Karkat that you fall head over heels over, you honestly could not tell. 

It’s everything, really. From his forced frowns to his weirdly smooth legs, the soft brown of his skin, his squishy cheeks, the way his hands fit so perfectly in yours. 

The way he just-

_ “Your hand is sweaty,” he remarks, smirking. You don’t know if he’s about to diss you for your panicked glands or tease you about being way too nervous on your third(!!!) date (!!). _

_ Alright, Dave, calm your fucking shorts. It’s just getting ice cream. _

_ “And what about it? It’s sweaty out, dude, you can’t just expect me to keep it cool in asscheek chafing degree weather. As much as I’d like to be a walking talking air conditioner technology simply hasn’t advanced enough for that yet.” _

_ “Yet?” _

_ “I like to keep my hopes high when it comes to fun yet ultimately useless inventions. What would the world be like without crocs, you know?”  _

_ Karkat laughs at that, loud and carefree. He has no fucking sense of volume control. _

_ He slides his hand out of yours, and you have to bite your lip to keep from pouting. It’s just a hand hold. It won’t be the last. _

_ With a quick pat and swipe, Karkat dries his hand of your gross sweat. And then he takes yours, and wipes it on his own shirt. _

_ A laugh bursts out of you before you snap your jaw shut at Karkat’s withering glare.  _

_ “Aw babe,” holy shit did you just say- “you just wiped my sweaty hand on your even sweatier shirt. That’s like, peak romance. Nothing better than sharing questionable fluids on each other’s clothes-” -holy shit, shut up shut up shut up shut up- _

_ “And. Uh. Thanks for doing whatever that was.”  _

_ This is way too embarrassing. You can’t believe Karkat’s still here with you, and not turning tail to contemplate about every decision he’s ever made that led him here, holding hands with a fucking wreck of a boyfriend(!!). _

_ And yet here he is, head turned towards the sky, trying not to smile. _

_ “You’re welcome, you dunce.” _

_ “Seriously though,” you ask, “what was that for?” _

_ “Oh, you know.” He slides his hand back in yours, swinging it back and forth. You missed it way too much during those few minutes. _

_ Karkat looks back at you again, sheepish grin on his face. “Sweat makes shit harder to hold. I don’t know if you know, but I like it when our hands aren’t slipping apart every few seconds.” _

_ “So. Adhesion.” _

_ “Adhesion.”  _

_ You hold his hand tighter, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. _

-everything-

_ “Are you going to make fun of me?” Karkat holds up his trumpet. Its surface shines under the ray of light slipping past the curtains, and you squint. Is it possible to overpolish an instrument? _

_ “What? No. Of course not.” Maybe just a little. _

_ “It  _ will  _ sound like shit. You know that, right?” _

_ “Yeah, yeah, you’re no prodigy. I just need you to play some parts of the actual sheet music and then it’ll all be good.” _

_ “Uh huh. I doubt that.” _

_ “Karkat, baby, pleeease.” _

_ He scoffs, looking away, and you grin. He’s definitely blushing. You’re just that irresistible. _

_ After a couple hours of embarrassing recordings and teasing, and then an additional week or so of piecing shit together until it sounds exactly how you imagined it to be, you plop yourself down next to Karkat, offering him your headphones. _

_ He knows the routine. He starts it off by closing his eyes, head tilted just slightly in a way that makes his bangs fall in front of his face.  _

_ You fight the urge to brush them back. _

_ As the seconds pass, you start to see it. The tapping of his foot, a slight nod to his head. A hint of a smile tugging on the edges of his lips. _

_ Karkat hands the headphones back, eyes firmly locked onto your hands.  _

_ “I’m surprised. You didn’t do such an awful job with it after all.” _

_ “Told you it’ll be good.” _

_ An eye roll. And then a kiss, short and sweet. _

_ “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” _

_ “Kkat, you know you help me sleep the be-” _

_ “If you dare finish that sentence, I swear to god I’ll pick you up and flail you around like a particularly lanky morningstar.” _

_ “Kinky!” _

_ “Shut UP.” _

-eyes, smile-

_ “You know,” Karkat starts, his voice a welcome sound against the familiar drone from the TV screen, “I’ve listened to this movie so much it’s practically white noise to me.” _

_ You hum in acknowledgement. You’ve watched this movie so much it’s practically a pavlovian response towards getting a good night’s sleep. _

_ Karkat sighs, leaning over to grab the remote. The sudden darkness is welcome, and you yawn. _

_ “Alright, you sleepy bitch, we’re going to bed.” _

_ Wait, no, you don’t want him to go. You’ll stay awake. You promise. _

_ “What? I’m not going anywhere, Dave. I’m staying over, remember.” _

_ Hm? Oh, yeah, that. Maybe. _

_ Karkat’s muttering now, sliding an arm under your legs and-  _ whoa - _ picking you up. Wow. That’s pretty pretty pretty hot. _

_ “Do you even know that you’re mumbling? You know what. Nevermind. And stop talking about my arms.” _

_ Boo. You’ll talk about his Dave-carriers anytime you want. _

_ He sets you down with a soft bump against the bed, and crawls in after you. He really isn’t leaving. _

_ “Get some sleep, Dave. I’ll be here in the morning.” _

-voice-

_ “Karkat, babe, sweetie, sugar pie honey bunches-” _

_ “What.” _

_ “My wonderful b of f, beef, chair-” _

_ “Chair? Seriously?” _

_ “Because you’re sturdy and my support.” _

_ He pauses at that, turning to look at you. You hold his gaze, smiling.  _

_ “I hate you. You are revolting, unbelievable, immature-” _

_ “Say it back.” _

_ “Dave, sweetheart, shut the fuck up.” Oh my god. He actually said it. _

_ Sweetheart. _

_ It was followed by a swift insult, but still. _

_ This is the best day of your life. _

-everything. You love everything about him. 

His tired eyes, the way he tucks his head under yours whenever you hug, the way he kisses you with a gentle steadiness, his sleepy smiles when he sees your face first thing in the morning, the frown that follows it-

“I love you.” It feels so natural to say. Like the words were just resting there, forever content. You say it again, for good measure.

You settle back down into the pillows, taking care not to jostle Karkat too much. You hold your breath as he snores, pulls you closer with a sigh. Oh.

“I love being with you too, by the way. I kinda love us. This sappiness comes in a package deal.”

You swipe aside his bangs, kissing his forehead before readily falling asleep yourself.

  
  
  


You wake up squinting, rubbing away the crust from the corners of your eyes until you can blink without feeling like you just ate shit at the beach.

Oh.

Karkat’s awake. And looking at you.

There’s no doubt that he’s going to go back to sleep in a couple minutes; his eyes are half lidded and staying closed for far too long during blinks, and theres a goofy smile on his face that he never lets you see for as long as he’s caffeinated and conscious.

But in the moment, while his eyebrows aren’t pinched in a permanent crease and his hand is lightly resting on your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles into your skin, he’s awake.

And you love him.

A giggle escapes you, and like dominoes, Karkat snorts. Which makes you giggle again, which makes him laugh, which makes  _ you _ laugh, until both of your throats are dry and your cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. You’re so lucky to have him. 

How can you ever tell him that? How could you ever find the words to look at the man that you want to spend the rest of your life forever with, who eases your burdens off your shoulder and replaces it with fond memories of smiles and playful nagging, and tell him that you love him so much it feels like you can’t contain it all within yourself?

One day. When you’re both more awake than you are right now, and your adoring soliloquy won’t go straight to drowsy voicemail.

For now, you take his hand in yours, cherishing the way he softens under your gaze.

“Hey.”

_ I love you. _

Karkat rolls his eyes, squeezing your hand in turn. He knows. You know and he  _ knows _ you know.

“Hey yourself, douchebag.”

_ I love you too. _

**Author's Note:**

> its 1:31 am i hate life and everything associated with it ANYWAY i wrote this as a bunch of drabbles duct taped together to form a ficlet because i was starving for some fluff lmao anyway i hope this is good it isnt proofread dont forget to like comment and sub of scribe


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